Lion Haired Librarian
by thegodedgar
Summary: Lucius finds himself irritatingly drawn to Hermione's behind. He decided that he is Lucius Malfoy and can break his own rules for standards if he wishes, as long as he never tells a soul. PWP. Dub Con. Lumione, in case you hadn't noticed. Sorry about errors. My Beta isn't home yet.


Lucius Malfoy was not an 'easy' man in any of the many implications of the word. He was not easy going, he was not easy to get along with, he was not easy to figure out and he was definitely not, in any way, unbiased or frivolous with his sexual partners. An outside observer may have disagreed when faced with Lucius' innumerable successes with the opposite sex but they would be far more than mistaken. Lucius in fact had quite the long list of qualifications that even his briefest encounters had to meet before they got to his bed. It wasn't his fault that all the women who met these standards were almost always more than willing to follow him anywhere. It didn't make him easy.

For these reasons, he found himself a bit confounded as he stared at the heart-shaped ass before him as it strained and wriggled inside the fabric of it's owners form fitting skirt. Its owner happened to be struggling with a book that Lucius had asked for that happened to be stuck on an over stuffed shelf. Its owner happened to be a librarian at the wizarding worlds largest and most prominent library. Its owner happened to be one Miss Hermione Granger.

This was completely and without exception unacceptable.

Lucius stifled what would have been an inappropriate and decidedly unattractive snicker when the book let loose and Miss Granger found herself making firm contact with the hard wood floor. Although the snicker was successfully concealed, the pleased smirk still remained on his face when she collected herself and turned around.

"You should try not to be so clumsy, Miss Granger. It's unbecoming and you already have so much to make up for." He jibed, and rather successfully. She turned a delightfully angry shade of purple.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" It was less of a courtesy and more like a dare. It took Lucius mere moments to accept the challenge. He was in no way afraid of Hermione Granger's temper.

"Yes, since you so kindly offered, I do, in fact, have a list of books I was looking to browse today. If you could retrieve a pen and parchment, you could get to retrieving those for me like a good girl." He tried to be as patronizing as possible. Lucius Malfoy was already effortlessly condescending so he didn't have to push too hard to hit the number of buttons he was aiming for on the dramatic and self-righteous little bint.

"My, Mr. Malfoy, how hard it must be to not be able to just buy them for your own library. Are things really that hard for you right now.?" Her feigned tone of concern was in no way entertaining to him. Even less so than the implications of her words.

It was true that for the first time in recorded Malfoy history that he did have to pick and choose the frivolous things he spent his money on, but it was only temporary. Once the war was over, he had found himself in the uncomfortable position of having to work his way back into society and had yet to acquire a new job. He was being forced to dip into old accounts that were mostly used for inheritances and important investments but he was not in any kind of a hard way and it was extremely impolite for her to make such and implication.

"A parchment and pen if you please, Miss Granger." He responded curtly. She obliged with a self satisfied grin. He found it rather disturbing that instead of his usual desire to club it off her face with his cane he thought that he might like to kiss it off. He shook the ridiculous desire off and made her an extensive list of rare books, most of which he owned, and handed it to her. She looked the list over before rolling her eyes in a way most unattractive, but very faithful to her undesirable little personality.

He watched carefully as her ass swayed away from him. It was disgusting, but he found his lustful thoughts convincing him that it was okay as long as it remained thoughts. Perhaps, his ego still being intact despite the war, he just decided that it was okay just because he was Lucius Malfoy. As a Malfoy, he really could do as he wished so long as no one found out about it. He tried to shake off that enabling revelation but it just stuck to his mind like barnacles on the bottom of a ship.

He found himself rising from his chair without permission. He was sure that whatever was to follow would be catalogued with the many things he chose not to think about, except on very special occasions.

The little librarian was between the stacks, stretching as high as she could trying to reach on of the books on his list. Lucius had specifically chosen that book because he'd looked it over the week before and knew where it was placed and that any sort of magic would disrupt the old magics put on the old tome. She was letting out the most delightful frustrated grunts as she reached high above her head.

He took in the forbidden sight for a few moments more before he closed the distance between them and reached for the binding of the book. He had himself pressed nearly flush against her small frame. Hermione froze, most likely in shock from the closeness.

"Let me, Miss Granger." He said, with the expected sharpness, into her mane of hair. It smelled like melon and strawberries. The discovery got him to wondering about how delicious the rest of her must smell.

"I am perfectly capable, Mr. Malfoy." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she tried desperately to cling to her misplaced pride. She still didn't move.

"Not from what I saw." He drawled. He wished she would move. Even just a little.

"Mr. Malfoy, I really think…" She turned as she spoke and stopped abruptly when she looked up into Lucius' face. He wondered how plainly his intentions shone there. She swallowed hard, and he watched the action very carefully, trying to determine the emotion behind it. He had no intention of forcing the little witch into anything. He needed to be sure that she just needed a little persuading.

"Was there something you needed to say to me, Hermione?" The use of her first name made her eyes snap up to his. There was no fear. Good. It would make things easy.

"No." was all she managed.

Suddenly Lucius found himself wondering how he should go about this venture. He was sure if he wanted to kiss her or just hike up her skirt and take her against the stacks.

Perhaps he might have do both.

He picked his cane up off the ground and used it to push her chin up toward his face. Her lips parted as they turned upward towards his. She wanted him to. He wasn't sure if that made him want to or not.

"You're very pretty, Miss Granger. At least you have that." As soon as the words left his lips she attempted to duck under his grasp. He took the opportunity to take her lips with his and kiss her deeply. She stilled again as his lips and tongue worked hers. He found himself surprised at the skill with which she returned his ministrations.

He set the end of his cane on the floor and let it fall against the shelves. He needed his hands free to touch the verboten flesh beneath him. He noticed that her side curved perfectly into her wide soft hips as he slid his hands around to the ass he had so wantonly admired. He was a very sick man. He was sure of it.

He took her by the shoulders and turned her back towards the shelves. It was her ass that had gotten him into this mess, he may as well see what he had abandoned his dignity for. He was surprised when she didn't offer any resistance as he pealed her skirt away from her behind.. His surprise continued when he revealed purple lace knickers instead of what he was sure were going to be the most boring white or flesh colored cotton. He found himself reluctant to pull them down. They hugged the shape of her so perfectly.

He slipped one of his hands down between her legs and pushed the soft fabric aside. He swallowed an undignified groan when he found his fingers enveloped in a deliciously slick warmth. She rocked slightly with the movements of his exploration. He felt his erection press firmly against his trousers. He was generally more leisurely and thorough in his love making but they were in the stacks of a library. This was how he was going to console himself for his lack of self-control.

He took his hand from her and reached into his robes and trousers to free the hard shaft of flesh so he could get his deviance over with. He pressed into her slowly, so that he might enjoy the initial sensation of going from cold to warm. He could feel her rock her hips back to accommodate him, a quiet moan escaping her lips. He reached around her face and put his fingers, still damp from her juices, into her pretty mouth. He couldn't have her giving them away.

She closed her lips around his fingers and sucked them into her mouth even further. The action caused him to trust forward, ending his tantric entrance. He bit his lip to stop a grunt of pleasure from escaping. He waited a moment that he would never admit was to regain his composure before setting up a steady pace. His other hand threaded around in front of her so that he could tickle her clit. Her knuckles whitened as she grasped the shelves in front of her. Her tight shaft pulsed around him, building the warm pleasure pain that was building in his gut. He wasn't even sure he cared if she made it over the edge or not. He just wanted to come inside her.

He pressed further, deeper, over and over, faster and faster. Her hips pressed back against him, her ass pressing against him through the fabric of his robes. He found himself wishing for a moment that he was less traditional and wore clothes that made his current activity more convenient. He just wanted to feel the slap of her skin against his.

Harder, and faster, he felt the pulsing of her muscle become firmer and more persistent, squeezing him closer to the edge with every thrust. If she was going to go, she had better go soon or he was going without her.

Then, she trembled and her muscles contracted mercilessly around him. He lost all control and his trusts became erratic. Colors burst behind his eyes as the pleasure ripped through him. He barely kept his resolve to remain silent as he felt his own muscles begin to tremble from the force of his orgasm.

As he came down he found his short panting breaths rather indemnifying and wonder if he'd at least managed to keep silent through the whole ordeal. Hermione laid against the stack, practically limp. He found a bit of pride in that.

"Mr. Malfoy… Mr. Malfoy… Mr. Malfoy!"

Lucius startled in his chair. He wasn't quit sure when he'd fallen asleep but an irritated lion haired librarian with a stack of heavy books told him that it was before he'd shamed himself. He tried to shake off his arousal that coupled poorly with his sleepy demeanor, in the hopes of salvaging some of his dignity.

He, Lucius Malfoy, had fallen asleep in a public chair like some over worked middle class muggle born.

"Thank you, Miss Granger." He said in a tone that tried to blame the occurrence on her lagging. She looked at him with what he chose to believe was not pity, and nodded gently. She said nothing, just placed the books onto the table next to him and walked away.

He watched her. Not her ass, or the way it moved back and forth with each step, but the quiet dignity and respect that she had maintained in not finding a way to use his lapse to her benefit.

This is what Lucius Malfoy had become? Someone to be pitied? He wouldn't have it. This was the last time that Lucius would let somebody see him falter. He would get back into society, where he belonged, if it killed him… or the odd useless wizard that may get in his way.


End file.
